


Turning

by TigerBiceps



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Masturbation, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 16:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18473107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerBiceps/pseuds/TigerBiceps
Summary: In which an upbringing by the Horde makes it exceedingly difficult to recognize sexual tension.





	Turning

**Author's Note:**

> This takes places sometime shortly before the first episode. There's some discussion of the Horde's stance on sexuality, which I imagine to be pretty repressive, so there's a lot of baggage and feelings of shame involved.
> 
> I wrote almost all of this in the week after the first season aired, and I came back to finish it before the second season comes out... I'm gay and obsessed with Catra.

Generally speaking, there was no activity in all of Etheria that Catra enjoyed more than sleeping. As soon as the call for lights out sounded in the barracks, she would be curled up in her bed (or… _a_ bed, anyways) and passed out in minutes. And she would be the last to wake up in the morning, leisurely strolling to that morning's training room and watching from the entrance for the perfect moment to make her presence known. Sometimes she was chewed out by their sergeant for her tardiness, but to be frank, sleeping in probably spared her from countless other reprimands she might otherwise have to deal with in the early morning.

So this is why it was especially frustrating to _still_ be awake nearly an hour after everyone else had fallen asleep. Not only that, but she wasn't the slightest bit tired. Even though she was in prime sleeping conditions: blanket placed so it only just covered her back, bedroll kneaded into comfort with sharp claws, herself loosely curled at the foot of Adora's bed…

Catra narrowed her eyes. _Adora._  She was sure that Adora was the reason she couldn't sleep, although she couldn't think of a convincing reason why. After all, Adora seemed to be sleeping just fine, lying on her side and taking up the main body of the bed. What could a sleeping person be doing that could disrupt her like this?

Well… Okay, maybe she had _some_ idea of what was keeping her awake. She turned her gaze away from Adora, rolling onto her back and staring at the underside of her own top bunk.

\--

It had been earlier that day, during the afternoon training session. Shadow Weaver’s schedule for the day was uncharacteristically disorganized, since she was apparently caught up in something much more _important_ than the bright young future of the Horde army. So rather than running through one of her simulated scenarios as usual, she had dismissed the sergeant for the day and shown up in person to bid them to pair off for sparring: Lonnie with Kyle, and Catra with Rogelio.

Catra paused before raising her voice. “What, Adora is too good to fight with us now?” Adora tensed her muscles, visibly uncomfortable at the accusation, but she looked to Shadow Weaver and waited for an answer.

“Must you question my every order even before I’ve finished giving them?” Shadow Weaver hissed, rounding on Catra but holding back any real anger. “I am trusting Adora to oversee this training session while your sergeant attends to other matters. Unlike _you,_  she has proven to me that she is capable of keeping things in order without someone babysitting her.”

Catra opened her mouth to reply, but Shadow Weaver cut her off. “I don’t have time to listen to your squabble. Adora,” she continued, turning her attention and softening her voice the tiniest bit, “please see to it that training continues smoothly in my absence. I don’t want to hear about anyone slacking off.”

“Yes, Shadow Weaver,” Adora replied with a practiced salute. Catra rolled her eyes; something clearly was being kept secret from their squad, and she suspected that this sparring session was meant to be a test for Adora alone, rather than any meaningful judgment of their abilities. But she managed to hold her tongue as Shadow Weaver swept out of the room. Without any further prompting, the group split off into two pairs, with Adora standing nearby with a small smile. Of course, she must have felt proud… Catra would jump at the chance too, to show off how capable she was and to flaunt her power over her teammates at the same time. But she wasn’t often afforded such opportunities, and Adora seemed perfectly content to lend a helping hand without any snide remarks. What a waste of power.

Catra pulled her gaze away from the door and faced Rogelio. “Get ready,” she said, and without waiting for a reply, she darted directly towards him. He braced his large, reptilian body with a wide stance and held his arms close, ready to catch her blows and turn them back on her, but just before she entered his range, she kicked off the ground and threw herself to the side.

Even though every Horde cadet was trained the same way to analyze the flow of battle on the fly and respond as necessary to take control of the situation, Catra still had enough exposure to her squadmates to know their natural inclinations on the training field. Rogelio tended to use his sheer size to keep himself stable rather than trying to overpower his opponent, preferring to turn their own motion against them. Everyone had their comfort zones, but Catra found her comfort in moving unpredictably, favoring any quick movements that might surprise or disorient the other. Even if it didn’t strictly follow Horde combat code, her quick movements always had the foundation of practiced strikes-- something that came as second nature after years of sparring had been bored into her muscles. Yet she never shied away from a risky move, one that might open her up to attack, if the promise of success was great enough. And more often than not, these risks paid out.

Catra caught the ground with her hands and kicked towards Rogelio’s stomach. He turned quickly to block the blow with his forearm, twisting his trunk to meet her and moving to grab her leg. But she had already bounced to the side again, still moving on all fours, and smiled as Rogelio whipped around to keep her in his sights. The brief moment as he regained his footing was all she needed; Catra pushed herself low and kicked again, this time aiming for the back of his knees. Her foot barely connected, but it was enough to stagger him and throw off his balance. She only needed to pounce forward, flying by his shoulder and grabbing hold of his collar to pull him to the ground.

Rogelio’s back hit the gym floor with a thud. Taking his exasperated sigh as a concession of defeat, Catra grinned toothily and snapped her attention upwards. Maybe Adora had seen how quickly she had taken him down?

But her smile faltered when she noticed Adora was crouched on the ground a short space away, with her back towards Catra. She was suddenly aware that the sound she had assumed to be that of Lonnie and Kyle fighting had become much more talkative and tense. She stepped forward to see around Adora, and Rogelio jumped to his feet to join her.

“Kyle, I barely touched you!” Lonnie said, with a reprimanding tone that barely concealed a twinge of concern. Kyle was sitting on the ground, clearly having been knocked off his feet, and Adora was holding Kyle’s arm and inspecting it; a small but darkly colored bruise was gradually appearing by his wrist, and his hand was held out in a strained position.

“S-Sorry Lonnie!” Kyle stammered. “I guess I just, uh, hit it wrong?”

“You did,” Adora said, softly but sternly. “You moved to block her kick too late. It’s better to keep your hands held higher, closer to your shoulders, so you don’t have to move them as far.” She was quiet for a moment, chewing her lip as she thought. “You should probably head to the med bay, just in case. Get some ice on it.”

“I’ll take him,” Lonnie said shortly. She didn’t say anything else, but the way she was averting her gaze made it clear that she felt responsible for the injury. Catra smirked a little at the sight.

“Try not to beat him up any more on the way there!” Catra called after her. Lonnie responded with a heated glare, but said nothing as she held open the exit. Kyle held his wrist in place, gave a meek nod of appreciation, and ducked through the door quickly, followed by Lonnie.

The gym was quiet for a long moment. Rogelio kept glancing up at the door, rubbing a hand over the scales on his arm. He nervously turned his head to Adora.

“Yeah, Rogelio, you can go with them,” she said with a sigh. He flashed a fanged smile and darted over to the door to catch up with Kyle.

Catra breathed out. “Jeez, what a wimp.”

“He’s still learning. We all are. But…” The tense, composed look on Adora's face melted away. “Man, I wish he could have waited to get injured when I _wasn’t_ in charge,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. Catra’s expression softened.

“Hey, it’ll be fine. Not even Shadow Weaver could’ve stopped that one from happening. Besides,” and here Catra made a face, “you don’t really have to try that hard to impress her.”

Adora shook her head. “I want to show her that I can lead a team, not just hold my own. They don’t just hand out promotions to everyone who can punch a face.”

“Well, certainly not to me,” Catra snipped. But her sour expression faded back into a grin. “Doesn’t mean I couldn’t get it if I tried, though. I could beat you in a fight any day.”

Adora smiled back conspiratorially. “Yeah? Wanna prove it?” she goaded, halfway raising her arms into fighting stance. “You’re still in _my_ training room.”

“Oh?” Catra feigned disinterest, inspecting her claws casually before moving into a defensive form. “Did you see the way I took down Rogelio?”

“Really now? How did that happen?”

“Lemme show you,” and she abandoned her stance to pounce directly towards her middle. Adora valiantly resisted for a few seconds, managing to keep herself from being knocked off her feet immediately. But finally the two proved to be too top-heavy to remain upright, and Adora fell flat on her back with Catra still clinging onto her front. This would have knocked the wind out of her, but instead it bubbled up as a fit of laughter, and Catra couldn’t stop herself from joining in.

“Impressive technique,” Adora managed between giggles, and even though she was teasing, the compliment put a buzz of excitement in Catra’s chest.

“I know,” Catra said as she sat up, still pinning Adora underneath her with her hands on her shoulders. Adora’s laughter settled down into quiet chuckles as she turned her gaze to the side. A beat of silence passed between them.

“...Do you have like, any sense of personal space?” she said, still smiling but her voice strangely quiet.

Catra furrowed her brow, caught off-guard by the change in topic. Adora chuckled again at the confusion so plain on her face. “I mean... do you jump like this on everyone?”

“If I’m fighting, yeah? I literally just took down--”

“Not fighting. Just like… playing around like this.”

Catra paused. “You _know_ I don’t. Maybe I’m really good at hiding it, but the truth is, I don’t care about the other guys that much.”

Adora snorted, and Catra felt something inexplicable in her chest. “No, I know that. I guess I just…” She drifted off, looking at the ceiling with a clouded expression before returning her eyes to Catra. “Doesn’t this feel… different to you?”

Catra considered this for a moment. She didn’t really jump on other people for fun, unless you counted the time that she had surprised Lonnie. (It had been revenge for her loss against her in that day's training exercise. Their sergeant hadn’t seen this as an equivalent win, and he had yelled at her until she had missed dinner.) Besides that, why would she want to be this close to someone else? The thought repulsed her.

“I don't get what you mean,” she said bluntly. “This is pretty normal, right? This is what… friends do?” The last part came with a bit of struggle, some unfamiliarity. There weren’t many people who would call each other friends in the Horde army, and Catra didn't make a habit of flaunting such sentimentality.

“Yeah… You're right,” Adora said quietly, but her face still bore a strange look of determination, like she wanted to ask another question. Catra waited for her to continue, willing herself to be patient (for once), but Adora said nothing and merely rested her hands on Catra's thighs.

Catra squinted her eyes. She didn't know what Adora was getting at, but she was also too stubborn to move off of her now. Gently, almost absently, Adora began rubbing her thumbs from side to side on her legs. Her expression hadn't changed in the slightest.

“What, uh…” Catra let the question drop. She wasn't even sure if Adora had any intent behind… whatever she was doing. Adora raised her eyebrows a fraction in response, freezing her hands where they were. When it was clear that Catra wasn't going to say anything more, she tread her hands lightly up her body until they came to rest on her hips. Her thumbs pushed just barely inwards until they slipped under the hem of her shirt, and she continued rubbing small circles into the concave area by each hip.

Catra changed her mind. She was definitely starting to understand what Adora meant about this feeling “different.”

But still, she didn't dare move. Partially because Adora's gaze started to feel like a challenge, and she wouldn't dream of backing down. But another part of her was too curious, too nervous, too… excited to pull away. Adora's touch was very light, very slow, very uncertain. The hairs on the back of Catra's neck rose, and she felt goosebumps rising near where their skin touched.

Adora parted her lips, leaving her mouth just barely hanging open. She exhaled a little huff of air, then moved her lips to speak--

The door swung open with a loud creak. “Hey guys, we're back! Finally,” Lonnie called with a twinge of annoyance, with Kyle and Rogelio close behind her.

Catra nearly yelped and pushed off of Adora, jumping back up to her feet. For just a second more, she kept her gaze fixed to Adora's, quickly trying to gauge her reaction; her eyes were wide (with panic? or guilt?), and her face was noticeably flushed red... She forced herself to turn away, smoothing out the hem of her shirt in what she hoped was a casual way.

“Jeez, what took you guys so long? Did you break Kyle's wrist or something?” Catra called back, putting her hands on her hips.

As she willed a smirk onto her face, Catra watched Adora nonchalantly get to her feet and stroll past her to meet the other cadets.

\--

And that was it. The training had proceeded normally after that, and at the end Adora had been congratulated on her competence with only mild criticisms, while Catra rolled her eyes at the blatant favoritism. Maybe two minutes of her day, where nothing had happened. _But_ , she thought as she rolled back onto her side, _was it nothing?_

Adora had certainly been acting like it was something. Even though she didn't bring it up again, and she hadn't missed a step in her evening duties, Catra couldn't wave away the look that had been in her eyes. She was used to the intense look Adora wore when training or studying, but this was nothing like that. It was as if she wanted something from her… or wanted Catra to say something. But what did she want her to say?

Catra groaned as she sat up. This was why she couldn't sleep. How could she, when she wanted so badly to figure out what Adora was thinking? And yet there she lay in front of her, resting without a care in the world. Obviously, she wasn't worried about anything that would keep her awake. Catra sighed, and as quietly as possible, she moved towards the head of the bed.

She stretched out alongside Adora's sleeping form, propping her head up on one hand and peering down at her face. It frustrated her, just how peaceful and thoughtless her expression was. Adora's hair was loose, and the pale tresses seemed to catch some light even in the darkness of the barracks. Her brow was relaxed and serene, her eyes just barely held closed, her lashes gently sweeping downwards. Her lips were barely parted, as if the shape of them still held her unspoken question, and her slow, even breathing came out softly against Catra's neck…

Catra's stomach did a funny little flip, and she moved her free hand to rest on her abdomen. What now, was she getting sick? This seemed to be a possibility, because her heart was beating a bit faster than normal and her breaths drew shallowly. She narrowed her eyes, which were still trained on Adora's face.

How could Adora have such a disastrous effect on her? Adora, the only person she trusted, the only one around whom she could feel comfortable enough to let her guard down. All she had done was ask some confusing questions, and give her a weird look, and touch her in that way…

It meant nothing, right? To prove this, Catra moved her hand off her stomach and, trying to simulate the same delicate touch, used the pad of her index finger to trace a few slow circles by her hip. Immediately, that same flush of goosebumps began to rise on her skin.

Catra swallowed dryly. Obviously, there was some reflexive response to this particular stimulation. It made sense that any touch, by her own hand or someone else's, would trigger this response. Nothing psychological or abnormal about it.

She continued the light movement on her skin, hoping to numb herself to the act and put all this worry behind her. But the reaction didn't appear to be subsiding, and she felt that warm nervous energy spreading further out. And lower.

Catra froze for a moment, even halting her breath. After a few seconds, when the lightning movement of her mind had finally reached its conclusion, she swore and bolted upright.

This was… unfamiliar territory. Even the Horde army, rigid though it may be, made sure that every cadet was well-informed by adulthood about certain biological urges. Any cravings for intimacy were just another vulnerability that could show weakness, or even worse, could be exploited by the enemy. So the procedure regarding sexual behavior was made clear: quash any such feelings before they could take root in your mind and impair your resolve. If the physical reaction proved difficult to manage, soldiers could seek medical attention to curb the abnormal temperament. But any cadet in training who repeatedly failed to resist these desires would be discharged at once.

Of course, there were other ways to quell sexual urges that weren't exactly written in the rulebook. Catra was certainly aware of this fact as a resident of the senior cadet barracks; it was hard to miss the uncomfortable sounds that sometimes disturbed the quiet night, coming from the direction of a cadet who was suspiciously well-covered by their regulation blanket. She was mildly disgusted at these times, but she tried her best to cover her ears and get back to sleep. Catra wasn't one to snitch about ambiguous rule-breaking, even if it would be hilarious to publicly call someone out over it.

Typically, on the occasion that Catra felt riled up in such a way, she would do her best to expend the energy with some combat training or a rigorous workout. A few times, when it had been too much to exercise away, she would make use of one of her usual hiding spots-- nooks and crannies around the Horde base that less agile soldiers couldn't normally reach-- and take care of the problem as quickly as possible. So the fact that Catra now found herself in such a state without warning felt like a failure to stay vigilant on her part.

It wasn't her fault, though. Adora had _done_ something to her, and now she found herself compromised. But… that didn't exactly make her feel less guilty. Catra looked around the room, and finally at Adora, to make sure her surprised movement hadn't roused anyone from sleep. With a touch of hesitation, she laid back down on the bedroll and continued studying Adora's face.

What did it mean if Adora had made her feel this way? It made sense that if she was going to fixate on a specific person's touch, there was no one else it could be besides her. It's not as if Catra willingly came in contact with anyone else she knew. But even so, having this kind of desire towards your best friend… was it normal?

Catra took in a sharp breath. Was this what Adora was asking about during training? Was this what she meant about their closeness feeling “different”? She had seemed composed, more composed than Catra was feeling now, but could Adora have been feeling something dangerous? Had Adora been… turned on? Because of her?

Catra tried to think critically before her thoughts raced away from her. What were the facts? Adora had asked her a few questions about personal space and feelings. Adora had shown signs of surprise and embarrassment when other people had interrupted them. Adora had placed her hands on Catra's hips and…

With a tight feeling in her chest, Catra put her hand low on her stomach, eyes still fixed on Adora's face. The memory of Adora stroking those sensitive spots burned in her mind, and Catra once again copied the movement. Warmth spread through her stomach, even faster this time. Adora had looked at her, only her, and she had felt compelled to touch her. Adora had wanted her. Maybe.

Shakily, she shifted her legs around and toyed with the waistband of her pants. It felt dirty to even consider this, to be let herself be taken by desire, to lie in Adora's bed and think these thoughts about her. But it also felt like a foregone conclusion, like something she couldn't resist at this point. And… maybe it was better to work quickly. To get this done so she could move on, get some sleep, and go back to feeling comfortable around Adora again.

She steeled herself, gritting her fanged teeth with resolve, and slowly slipped past her waistband. Her hand hovered for a moment, hesitating as she felt the ticklish patch of unkempt hair, before pushing further below. Immediately she hissed, recoiling at the feeling of just how wet she had become.

Catra closed her eyes, too filled with shame to take in the view in front of her. Adora would freak out if she knew what she was doing, and with good reason, too. But… she couldn't let go of her thoughts, her too-buried hopes, that Adora might want to touch her. That soft grip on her hips, that delicate touch on her skin… Slowly, uncertainly, she circled two fingers on herself. Her pulse throbbed in response. God, that felt good… She understood why the Horde was so strict about sex, considering how easy it would be to be tempted by the full breadth of this feeling.

She had to keep her touch light, pushing forward with the pads of her fingers to keep her claws safely out of the way. Catra wished she could do more, could press in more strongly with less restraint. The thought that Adora, with her perfectly trimmed nails, wouldn't have to hold herself back floated to the surface of her mind. This left her body feeling even more heated and flushed than before. Did Adora fall to the will of her body and touch herself like this? Did she hide herself in this very bed, did she rub that slick wet heat out of her, did she bite her lip like she always did and push down the desire to moan? Or… if she touched Catra, would she drag those same feelings out of her? Would Adora hold down her hips and rub those little circles on her, would she slide her fingers along those electric little bundles of nerves, would she slip them inside, as deep as she could, thrusting and rubbing in places that Catra herself couldn't reach? Both of these ideas left her breathless, the heady need demanding even more of her attention than before.

Initially she had been touching herself slowly, cautious not to wake Adora while easing into the unfamiliar intensity. But as her mind filled with different images, cravings that had laid buried for too long, her movements become faster and less restrained. Catra's whole body wanted to lean into this feeling, hips pushing forward into her hand. Her tail, which had been anxiously twitching from side to side, unconsciously reached out and wrapped around Adora's calf. God, to be so close, to feel her warmth and her breath on her skin, to hold the picture frame of her saintly face in her eyes alone, and to have the barest chance that Adora might want to reach out, risk so much, hold her and touch her and keep her and consume her, it was too much, it was too much, it was--

Catra came with a strangled whimper, pushing the noise down as much as she could while riding out each distinct wave of her orgasm. She had never felt it so strongly before now, and as she feebly continued the movements of her fingers, she never knew she could draw it out so long either. Even now, her barely open eyes never wavered from the face in front of her.

Only when the spasms became too strenuous to bear did Catra finally pull her hand away, every muscle in her body relaxing in response. She meekly uncoiled her tail from Adora's leg, dimly aware that she had been squeezing it for some time. She forced her eyes open further to study Adora's face, panicked that she might find some sign that she was awake. But she seemed to have stayed asleep, her face unchanging over all that time.

Catra was suffused with a great feeling of relaxation, along with a returning sense of shame. The fact that she had been so easily aroused and had given in so completely was… troubling. At the very least, she had underestimated how intense the experience could be. But the only difference between this and any other time was… Adora.

She didn't know what that meant.

But for now, it seemed like her problem was taken care of; with her muscles deadened by relief, she finally felt nothing but the desire to sleep. Catra pushed herself upright with heavy limbs and slunk back to the foot of the bed. She paused to take a last look at Adora's face, with the excuse of ensuring that she was asleep, before finally laying down. With exhaustion serving as a ward against any difficult thoughts, she fell asleep at last.

\--

The change in schedule was short lived, and the training session for their squad was business as usual the next day. Their sergeant had returned with with a new battle scenario from Shadow Weaver, one in which the enemy was holding a high-ranking officer hostage, and they were tasked with retrieving the stand-in dummy as quickly as possible. The five of them had only just entered the randomly generated layout of the woods when a group of training drones twice their number had descended in ambush.

“Oh wow, who could have seen this coming?” Catra drawled as she dodged the drone's laser. No one responded to her comment as they prepared to attack, so she continued. “It's not like this same ambush happened in training last week, or the week before that, or--”

“Catra!” Adora called, partly to reprimand and partly to warn her; the laser, while harmless, triggered an event to knock over a tree as if breaking it in two. Before Catra had a chance to react, Adora grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her out of the tree’s path; the tower fell to the ground with a weighty _thud_.

Catra froze, surprised at first that she had been careless enough to fall for a basic ploy, and surprised again at the strength of Adora's grip on her arms. Was she always this strong? And had her hands always been this warm? Wasn't her face just a little too close for comfort? Oh god, how long had she been staring blankly at Adora's face?

Before she could come up with another panicked thought, she pushed Adora's hands off of her, perhaps a little more roughly than she intended. Catra inwardly grimaced as she registered the shocked look on Adora's face.

Adora furrowed her eyebrows. Again her lips, parting just barely, drew Catra's gaze in the flickers of her resolve, and…

Catra swept past her, vaulting over the false fallen trunk and forcing her gaze fixedly forward. It took only a few well-timed leaps to retreat to a branch that was secluded enough from view. She heard the audibly annoyed huff from below her, and her jaw clenched tight as Adora sped back toward their teammates without a word.

She leaned against the tree, trying desperately to take stock of what just happened. Why did Adora's touch feel so different from usual? And what had made Catra panic like that? But even as she searched for answers to these questions, she pushed against the responses that came so easily to her mind. Her mind cycled the same path, over and over, no longer possible to stop.

Adora, lips parted.

Adora, grip firm yet tender on her shoulders.

Adora, hair spread feathery-soft on her pillow.

Adora, gaze burning in Catra's cheeks.

Adora, thumbs worrying gently into Catra's skin.

Adora, underneath her.

Adora, lips parted...

_...Dammit._


End file.
